Animal
by CurbItKirby
Summary: Monroe has a crush on his new neighbor. Monroe/OC Two-shot. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

She had no right to be wearing that.

Monroe sipped idly at his coffee as he watched his new neighbor work in her garden. The thick curtains hid him from her view. The window was open a quarter inch, letting the spring breeze send her scent wafting through his house. It was one of soil, sweat, mint body lotion and the herbs she was planting. Basil and rosemary, respectively; All pleasant, comforting smells… that were almost completely overpowered by the stench of fresh paint coming out of the many open windows of her house.

A ribbed white t-shirt that tight had no place in a civilized society, Monroe decided.

He took another gulp of the steaming hot brew. It scorched the back of his throat, but he showed no sign of irritation. The man watched the woman wipe her brow and stand; pulling off dirty gloves as she did. The Blutbad's brown eyes flickered over her slender, somewhat bottom heavy frame before he stepped away from the window.

In the several weeks he had been watching her, Monroe had only had one conversation with the young woman. It was at his mailbox, just as she was moving in. It had been, by far one of the most strained and awkward conversations of his life. He had done himself a favor by repressing it. From what he recalled, however, it had gone something like this:

"Hi, I'm Gwen _Something-or-Other_."

A brisk, sweaty handshake.

"I'm Monroe. Just Monroe."

"Cool. Well, we should hang out sometime, get a coffee."

"Yeah, sure." Then he all but ran back into his house before she could set a date or ask any questions. Not a proud moment in his book. Monroe had since spent literally five weeks wondering whether or not she was hitting on him or just being friendly.

He set his mug down on the table. All but falling down on to the flat bench that was attached to the leg press, he sighed. In truth, he knew a total of four things about Miss _Something-or-Other. _

One: she had a taste for immodestly tight clothing. On one hand, he considered this a positive. She had a nice little body and he enjoyed seeing it. On the other, it was easily one of the most bothersome elements of his daily life at the moment(second only to Nick). Or at the very least one of the most distracting. His blood would race. His protective instict kicked in after he had deemed her a potiental mate. His eyes would sharpen at anyone she spoke to. Monroe would find himself baring his teeth at anyone who lingered in front of her house. Blutbad instincts were a hassle, and her short-shorts(and the male attention they attracted) were not helping.

Two: She was consistently coming and going at all hours. This wouldn't annoy him so much if it didn't affect his own personal sleep schedule. At all hours of the night his room was lit by the headlights of her car shining through his window. If that didn't wake him, the soft roar of whatever god awful 80s hair-band she had plugged into her car's stereo did.

Monroe always woke just long enough to smell whatever wonderful concoction she was bringing into her house and hear her hum whatever song she had been listening to all the way up her steps. Then he made a vague, half-hearted mental note to shut his window the next morning before he fell back asleep.

Three: She was most certainly growing weed in her basement. Or maybe cooking meth. He wasn't entirely sure _what_ was going on in her house, but he knew it had to be illegal. Strange hissing and odd, unfamiliar smells often drifted from her windows. Which were always freaking open. Every window in the house actually. He knew for a fact she had some sort of grow op. in her basement, and he had seen various boxes labeled _FRAGILE_ when she had moved in.

And the fourth, and easily most frustrating thing, was her scent. Only when they were at the mailbox had he noticed something off with his neighbor. She had been friendly, with a wide toothy smile and a low, husky voice. All good things. Even the soft underlying scent wasn't bad- just different. Dark, sweet and somehow sticky; like she had molasses in her blood.

A faint ding caught his attention.

He growled and almost kicked the weights he had been pressing on to the floor. They clanged loudly against the top rail before dropping back to his feet. Monroe grunted. Rolling out from under the machine, he went back to his now lukewarm coffee. He ran his tongue over his sharpened canines.

Sometimes he really did miss the simplicity of being wild. Seeing something you want and taking it… In fact he could think of several different ways he'd like to take her. A few choice positions rose in his mind and he forced down another swallow of coffee.

Monroe crossed back over to the window in a few long strides. Pulling back the curtain, he found himself peering into her kitchen window. His appreciative eyes were met with the sight of Gwen's navel as she reached above the sink to get something. A glittering pink piercing made his breath catch. The cup shattered in his hand as he gripped it tightly.

But he didn't pay it any mind as a pair of surprised brown eyes caught his own.

The woman's brows rose and she lifted a hand in greeting to him. Monroe just stared at her before turning away. He closed his curtains tightly and went to fetch a dustpan... and a mop.

Unable to find the latter, he was forced to settle for a wash cloth. The sharp porcelain pieces were tossed carelessly in the blue plastic dust pan, and he had just finished sloping up the cold coffee when there was a knock on his back door. Monroe froze. Maybe if he was still enough she would go away. But, much like Nick, she was insistent, and didn't seem to be going anywhere.

With the cloth in the sink and broken cup in the garbage, the Blutbad slowly made his way over to the back door. Pressing down some of his unruly hair, he realized too late his hand was wet from the coffee and repressed a groan. Monroe opened the door.

Gwen, hair surprisingly up for a change, smiled at him. "Hiya."

"Uh, hi." He swallowed, not used to seeing her bare neck. Her white t-shirt was a v-neck, he noticed. With gritted teeth, he forced himself to keep his eyes up. "Can I help you?"

With a cocky, loop-sided grin, the brunette nodded. "You're going to have lunch with me."

"I am?"

"You are," She nodded over to her own backyard. "Come on, then. I got pizza and beer."

Monroe blinked at her abrupt forwardness. With a stunned nod, he shrugged, "Okay."

Gwen's smirk blossomed into a bright, genuine smile. It made his stomach clench. Without another word, she crossed over to the chain link fence that separated their yard. She motioned with him to follow with an excited wave, and he was reminded vaguely of a small child trying to force their parents' to hurry up. It was an eager, quick motion…and he found it very cute. With an exasperated roll of the eyes, he followed her.

She slipped through the opening and unlatched the lock on her own fence's gate. The curvy brunette held it open for him.

"Pizza's not gonna stay hot forever, doll."

Somewhat reluctantly, the Blutbad passed through the gate. A whiff of that unique, frustrating smell caught him off guard again as he brushed past her.

"So, _Just Monroe_," Gwen led him over to a rather cramped little deck that was only elevated maybe a foot off the ground. It literally only had one step. He wondered what the purpose of having it at all was as she went on, "How've you been?"

"Fine." He swallowed. There was barely enough room on the 'deck' for two lawn chairs and a table that was at most the size of a night stand. "Yourself?"

The woman continued to smile at him. "Great, take a seat and help yourself. I'll go grab the beers."

Monroe's dark eyes dropped down to her well rounded ass as she walked away. He could feel an approving growl rising in his chest, but managed to suppress it. With a touch of apprehension, he sat down in the lawn chair closest to the edge of the 'deck'. The air was heavy with paint fumes from her open window, but thankfully the pizza helped mask it somewhat.

Gwen reappeared with a small blue cooler. She set it down on the little space left on the table. It almost toppled over, so she opted to just set it on the ground.

"So…" Monroe cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter when her dark eyes met his with curiosity. "What brought all this on?"

"Well…" The woman grinned crookedly at him. "It's always been my goal to charm the neighborhood recluse out in to the open with booze."

"I'm the neighborhood recluse?"

"According to the neighbors."

"Well, congrats," He smirked at her. "Mission accomplished."

Not saying anything else on the matter, she popped opened the lid of the pizza box. "I got cheese, is that cool?"

"Yeah, it's fine." He took the paper plate that was handed to him. "Thanks."

"You're welcome, babe." Gwen opened the cooler and took two cans out.

Monroe preferred bottles, but said nothing, just took one from her with an appreciative nod. They sat in silence a few moments before he gathered up the courage to speak. Wooing women wasn't exactly his strong point…at least Gwen was making it easy on him. Her body language was open and friendly, her posture straight but not stiff.

"Are you from Portland?" The Blutbad asked.

The young woman nodded. "I lived her when I was little."

"Why'd you move back?" _Why would _anyone_ move back?_ He thought to himself.

"My grandma still lives here- she runs a bakery out of her house. Asked me to come up and help her out with it." Gwen explained. Her tongue flickered over her bottom lip. "Know what that means?"

_I could lick frosting off you while you bake naked for me?_ Instead of saying that, however, Monroe asked, "What?"

"Cupcakes for dessert."

They shared a smile.

**A/N: Verdict while I work on the next one? Where Monroe shows his weird affections to her?**


	2. Chapter 2

After their lunch, Monroe kept a casual friendship up with Gwen. At first it was out of connivance, had she lived any further away, he probably wouldn't have gotten so attached. A few brief words at the mailbox, a wave of acknowledgement in the garden. No big deal.

But then she started feeding him. _Often_. Every other morning he'd awake to find some kind of goody basket on his back porch. Day old unsellable bagels, muffins and cupcakes of all varieties left in a picnic basket just for him.

The Blutbad assumed this meant the attraction was mutual. Or at the very least they were friends. So naturally, his wolf side wasn't immune to little acts of affection toward the eccentric young woman.

It started harmlessly enough. Like marking his territory…in her yard. Under the cover of darkness. No big deal. Just a couple quick pees around her yard; completely _not_ weird, right? Totally normal for his species. No cause for concern on anyone's part, least of all Gwen's, right?

At least Monroe didn't think so until he almost got caught. It was little past two in the morning when he snuck in to Gwen's yard. She had left some time earlier, going off to… do whatever it was she did in the middle of the night. Monroe had covered his usual spots and was just getting ready to zip up when the upstairs bedroom light flicked on.

The Blutbad froze. He hadn't even heard the car pull up! When had the car pulled up? How long had she been inside? Trying to blend into the darkness, Monroe dropped down to the ground.

Apparently his attempt at hiding was futile, as the window opened. In a complete panic, he jumped to his feet. He was halfway over the wooden fence that cut off her yard when her voice hit his ears.

"_Uh, is someone out there?"_ Gwen called out into the darkness.

Monroe froze.

"_Hello? I know you're out there!"_

As her tone turned hostile, the Blutbad threw himself over the fence into the neighbor's backyard. He landed flat on his back. Stunned for a moment, he flinched as a dog barked noisily in his face. Only a thin chain kept it from attacking him. Monroe struggled to his feet. He shook himself off. After a moment, he ran over to a fence that led to the house behind his own and hopped it with a bit more grace.

The next day, Gwen was at his backdoor, ranting about some creep in her bushes. Monroe listened intently, playing the role of supportive friend as she freaked out on his steps. He sipped at a mug of coffee and tried to focus on it rather than that sickeningly sweet smell in her blood.

"What kind of freak fucks with someone's garden, anyway? Shouldn't he be like, peeping in windows or jerking off or something?"

The wolf blinked. With an amused smirk, he tilted his head, "Would you rather-"

"No, I wouldn't _rather_! I'm just saying-" She stopped and hugged herself tightly. "I don't know what to do." Her dark eyes rose to his. "What should I do?"

"I don't know," He told her honestly. "Ignore it? Maybe you scared him off."

"Yeah…maybe." Gwen continued to frown however, and he noticed fear seeping into her scent, replacing her rage.

So, in an attempt to comfort her(and save his own ass), he changed the subject. "How's your grandmother?"

"Huh? Oh, she's fine." A gentle smirk twitched at the woman's lips. "She wants to know what you think of the cakes."

"They're awesome!"

The shorter woman grinned up at him. "Good! She'll be glad to hear it."

She rubbed her neck and sighed. Monroe ignored how close to a moan it was. Instead he asked, "Want me to keep an eye out for you?"

"You'd do that?" Gwen's brown eyes widen slightly.

"Sure." The Blutbad shrugged, "Consider it a favor from your friendly neighborhood recluse."

Before he could react, she was hugging him. Tightly. Around the midsection. The top of her head barely reached his shoulders and he was overwhelmed by warmth of her body…and that goddamn intoxicating smell.

Monroe patted the top of her head, hoping to spur her off him before she noticed any…sudden changes south of his body. "Yeah, yeah. I know."

Gwen pulled away, still grinning. "I'll pay you back for this," She promised, her hands still on his arms. "Just name it!"

"Just keep feeding me." He replied with a crooked smirk. It was an attempt to be smooth as the young woman continued to beam at him.

"I can do that!"

Monroe felt a flush rise on his cheeks. The look on her face was one of glee… or was that adoration? A warmth spread through his chest and he felt a grin of his own pulling at his lips. Gwen saw it and embraced him again. This time he let himself hug her back. He wasn't sure what the hug _meant_ necessarily, but he liked it.

She left his yard soon after, making promises about pies and various goodies that would make him weep with joy. Gwen pointed a finger at him as she opened his gate. "No more day olds."

He just waved her off.

The next morning, Monroe woke up with the taste of blood in his mouth. Thankfully, it wasn't human. Licking his lips, he deduced it to be squirrel, and tried to piece the previous night back together. He couldn't recall much beyond getting insanely drunk after watching Gwen put up sensor lights in her backyard. She then went the extra mile by spraying something around the gate and various parts of her fence.

"_To ward off unwanteds,"_ She had explained.

Monroe wasn't quite sure what that meant either. He figured her to be a bit of a strange bird and went back into the house to get wasted with his tail between his legs. Apparently he was an _unwanted_. Vaguely, he wondered why he had hunted down an innocent squirrel.

Then it hit him. _Oh god no_, he thought to himself.

Around noon the animal control people came by Gwen's house. They carted off the carcass that had been left on her front steps as a peace offering. The animal in him whimpered, wondering why she didn't like his gift and the man groaned. He made a vow to stop drinking- which he quickly broke by going to the fridge and fishing out a beer.

With a shake of his head, he went to his back porch. Unsurprisingly, a basket waited for him. He brought it back into the house. The delectable scent of baked goods wafted out of it and he opened it to find a pie. Blackberry. A smirk pulled at his lips.

_Must be trying to fatten me up_, he thought to himself as he moved to get a plate.

He spotted Gwen out back in the garden through the window. Her head was bobbing along to whatever music she was listening to, lips syncing the words to herself. Her long dark hair hung around her face, covering her bare shoulders from the warm spring sun. The pair of black headphones she had on were _massive_.

A smile twitched at Monroe's lips. He really should go over there and thank her…

He put the pie back in the basket. Picking it up, he made his way in to the backyard. He paused where their yards were separated by a thin chain link fence. She didn't notice him right away. Still bobbing along to her music. Monroe was a bit amused to see she still had a Walkman. He waved, earning her attention.

Gwen pulled the headphones off. "Hey, what's up?"

"Uh, I was just gonna eat your pie."

Her brows rose. His face blanched. An amused smirk tugged at the woman's lips. "Is that so?"

"Uh-yeah," His voice cracked. He cleared his throat. Monroe bit his lip, "I was just wondering if you wanted a piece."

"Sure." Gwen stood. Her bare legs were dirty from kneeling in the dewy soil, but she didn't seem to mind. "Come on over, I'll grab some plates."

Deciding it would seem too eager to hop the fence, Monroe went around to the gate. He had just crossed the threshold when it hit him. The pain was intense, knocking him clear off his feet. It _burned_. His sinuses were on fire. He felt his features shift, revealing his true face as he thrashed helplessly on the ground. Monroe clawed helplessly at the ground as a pair of bare feet came into view.

"So. That explains it." Gwen said calmly. A frown tugged at her soft features. "You should've told me you were a Blutbad."

His red, watery eyes glared up at her as her own brown shifted to an inky black, creeping along the veins under her skin.

Then it hit him. Her scent. The herbs. The strange smells and noises coming from the house. He bared his sharp teeth at her and spat, "_Witch_."

"Wolf." She shot back. Her gaze softened after a moment and she reached out to him. "Here, let me-"

Gwen jerked back when he snapped his jaws at her. Her full lips pressed into a thin line as she watched him writhe on the wet grass. After a moment, she sighed, "Do you want me to help you or not?"

Tears flowed from his eyes and with great reluctance, Monroe nodded. Her hands latched on to his flannel shirt and she helped him struggle to his feet. Her features were back to their pale normal state. He tried to repress his wolf. But failed. His arm wrapped around her shoulders hesitantly. Together, they limped into her house with her baring most of his weight.

His sight was slowly fading into a haze- becoming black around the edges. "What did you do to me?"

"Oh calm down- I didn't know you were a Blutbad." Gwen set him down at the kitchen island. She poked him firmly in the chest. "Stay."

He growled at her. His nose twitched, but he was unable to pick up any kind of scent. Every inhalation was like snorting gasoline, flaming an already violent fire.

Turning her back to him, the woman quickly went about fishing a granite medicine bowl out of the cupboard, along with a series of dried roots and a knife. The roots joined some herbs. They were quickly ground together into a fine powder with a mastered hand.

Monroe curled his lips back at the sight of the knife as it was raised. "What-"

Gwen ran it along her palm. She squeezed her hand into a fist. A stream of black ooze dripped into the bowl. It disintegrated as it touched the remaining herbs, flaking into a fine black, sand-like dust. She mixed it and raised the bowl to her lips.

Monroe's head rested on the table now. His vision was almost completely blacked out now. He twitched and jerked spastically with pain.

"Monroe. Sit up."

The Blutbad did as he was told. Gwen took a deep breathe and blew the powder into his face. He flinched as it hit his stinging nose. Monroe sneezed. But the pain was gone. He sniffed. Nothing. Then the wretched smell of fresh paint hit him. He gagged slightly, but suppressed it.

"Better?" Gwen asked. A quick glance at her palm confirmed the the wound was already healing as expected.

"What did you do to me?" His features shifted back to the human ones she was accustomed to. A shaky hand wiped his eyes. Then his nose.

She frowned. "I told you. I was keeping out unwanteds…if I had known it was you, I might've let you off with a warning and not opted to put a minor protection spell on my yard."

Monroe gaped at her. "That was _minor_? _Are you __**insane?**__"_

"Hey! It's not my fault your dog nose is freakishly sensitive!" She flushed. Licking her bottom lip, she cleared her throat. Her arms crossed over her chest. "I guess this means we can't be friends anymore."

"I try not to make friends with people who _poison_ me!"

Gwen's eyes darkened at him. That inky blackness coating them again. "No. You did not get to blame this on me. You were _pissing_ in my _yard_."

"I was trying to keep you safe!"

"From what?" The woman asked curiously, doubtfully. A slight tilt in her head.

He faltered, the words _other men_ dancing on his tongue. A frown tugged at his lips. "It's just what we do when… we _care_ for someone."

Her brows rose in understanding, a faint pink rising on her cheeks. "Oh."

"Yeah, look, I should go. I mean- it was nice while it lasted." Monroe ran his hand over his scruff.

A sad pout crossed the woman's soft features, but she nodded. "Yeah."

"Yeah…" He repeated. He went to turn away but her voice, and hand stopped him.

Gwen touched his forearm gently. "Or…"

"Or?" The man repeated with intrigue.

"We can keep things casual. You can pee in my yard… I'll lift the spell." She smirked at him. "Provided you stop leaving dead animals on my doorstep."

"Casual…you mean like…?"

"Friends. Like we were. Naive to each others…lineage." The brunette offered. She let go of his arm with a shrug. "Because as much as I hate to admit it, Wolfboy, you're the only friend I got."

"That's pathetic."

Her lips twitched upward. "It's true. I know I'm the closest thing you got to one, too. It's okay, you can admit it."

"That's not true." Monroe frowned at her. The image of the pesky Grimm rose in his mind. "I have another friend."

"That cop? You can't be friends with a cop, no one can." She pointed a finger at him. "Do not tell him about the weed in my basement."

"I knew it." He chuckled. " And I am. He's a…good guy. A good friend."

If she caught his hesitation, she didn't mention it. Instead, she asked, "And what? You're not allowed to have two?"

"I try not to make friends with creatures known for stealing babies."

"I try not to make friends with creatures known for _eating_ babies." She retorted with an airy sort of spite.

Monroe rolled his eyes. "I have never eaten a baby."

"Well, I've never stolen one." Gwen crossed her arms. "And we don't do that. People trade them, that's not the same thing."

He watched her round face carefully, looking for some hint of humor. There was none. He let out an uneasy laugh. "Yeah…That's- that's really-"

"Weird, I know. But it's better we raise them than someone who's willing to trade them for something as trivial as gold or lettuce."

The Blutbad frowned at her. She had to be messing with him. He squinted skeptically at her. "You've have had someone trade their baby for lettuce?"

"Not personally." She shrugged. "My grandmother was."

"The baker?" Monroe asked with astonishment.

"Well, technically her father agreed to the deal." The woman explained. She waved off his gawking. "We don't typically breed, so that's how we multiply."

His curiosity spiked, the man sat back down. In truth, he didn't know much about witches. Not many did. They, like most creatures, kept to their own kind. "You don't breed?"

"Not typically," She repeated. Gwen tilted her head. "I thought…" The younger woman paused. "Are you…does this mean we can be friends?"

Monroe shrugged. "Maybe just friends."

She smiled at him. A familiar warmth rose in his chest. The sweet, sugary smell of her blood lingered in his nose. He grinned as she nodded happily, "Okay."

"Okay."

"But you have to tell me about the Blutbaden! It's only fair."

"Agreed."

**A/N: There _is_ going to be another part of this. It's going to center around these two spending various holidays through out the year together. Yes, it will eventually get romantic between the two and yes Nick will eventually make an appearance. I decided to go the holiday route because Monroe loves Christmas and Gwen fucking hates it. Expect it soon…**


End file.
